Deartháir
by Pecore-Nere
Summary: When his mum dated an American jerk and they moved to America, Arthur thought that his life couldn't get any worse. How very wrong he was when he discovered that the jerk actually had a son, jerk the 2nd, named Alfred. AU, full summary inside.


**Summary : When his mom dated an American jerk and they moved from England to America, Arthur thought that his life could not get any worse. How very wrong he was when he discovered that the jerk actually had a son, jerk the 2nd named Alfred. As his hatred toward Alfred gradually became love, Arthur started to ponder whether his life had gotten so much better, or had gotten so much worse to his liking.**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Hetalia or its characters.**

* * *

**Chapter I**

"Surprise, Arthur!"

"What..?" Arthur blinked his eyes in disbelief. One minute his mum was still standing by his side, checking on their luggage and passports, the next she had stood beside a tall blond man, hugging his arm and smiling happily like an imbecile.

"Hi, Art," the tall man smiled and waved his hand. His blue eyes were smiling along with his lips, but somehow Arthur didn't seem to recognize the smile. All he recognized was his mum hugging another man after only three months ago divorcing her husband, Arthur's dad.

Arthur narrowed his eyes when he realized that the man was calling him using the nickname his mother created. Well, to be exact, it was the nickname his dad used to call him to when they were still a family. "What are _you _doing here?" Arthur hissed, ignoring his mum's disagreeing frown. "Mum, what's going on here?"

"Well, we're going to move in with Patrick, Arthur, dear," Arthur's mum stated matter-of-factly, as if Arthur should've expected this all along.

"_Move in?_ With _him_?" Arthur shrieked furiously, earning several curious glances from people walking by the crowded terminal. "And this is how you're telling me, mum? Drag me along to the other side of the earth and shove it on my face?"

"Quiet, Arthur," his mum shushed, glancing around with embarrassment. "Let's talk about it after we arrived at Patrick's home, okay?"

"Oh, this is just getting better and better! Mum, I'm not gonna stay with that git. You stay with him, I'll find another ticket to go back home," Arthur growled angrily, his green eyes glared mercilessly at his shrinking mum.

"Go back home? Don't be ridiculous, Arthur. This _is _home," she tried pleading to her furious son.

"Not for me, that is," Arthur replied, not even bothering to look at his mum. He checked his wallet to find an emergency credit card his dad once gave him. He was unsure whether or not it's usable in America, but it's worth a try. He's got plenty of cash in his account; he only needed to pull it out to buy a one way airplane ticket to London.

"Look, Arthur, it's too late to find another plane back to London, is it? Why don't you stay in my home and try to calm down first? Then you can decide whether or not you're staying," Patrick offered calmly, ignoring Arthur's mum's effort to cut his speech.

Despite his urge to go back to England as soon as possible, Arthur realized that it's impossible to find a ticket at this time. It was nearly 6 pm already, and he was exhausted from the long flight. Whether he liked it or not, he had to rest and replenish his energy first.

"Okay, fine," he grumbled, dropping his wallet and passport back into his travel bag.

Arthur's mum smiled exuberantly as her son dragged his luggage toward her. She nearly bounced in excitement, hugging her beloved Patrick's arm and constantly babbling like a child. She was too busy to notice Arthur's malicious gaze, or Patrick's concerned glances at her son.

* * *

"Good job today, Al! See ya tomorrow, pal!"

Alfred waved at his teammates as they left the changing room, chattering and laughing noisily. He was not in the mood to go back home; his dad had told him that morning that his girlfriend from England are going to visit. 'Visit' as in, staying once and for all.

Alfred frowned as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, relishing the feel of the clean fabric after practising basketball for hours in the ratty shirt he used for practices. He wanted his dad to be happy, of course, but still he couldn't help but feel pissed about it. True, his mum had left them for four years, but that doesn't mean his dad could just threw memories of her away like a piece of junk.

Alfred placed his wire-rimmed glasses back on his face, narrowing his eyes slightly as they refocused to adjust with the lenses. He ran his fingers through his freshly washed hair, sighing heavily as he realized there's no reason for him to stay in the cluttered room any longer. Just as he was about to stood up and leave, suddenly the door that leads into the bathroom opened, revealing a wavy haired blond teenager walking in only shorts.

"Ah, Alfred. Going home soon?" he asked, squinting his eyes as he trotted to his locker.

"Mattie! I didn't know you're still there!" Alfred grinned happily and waved his hand at his friend. Matthew, or Mattie, as Alfred preferred to call him, was Alfred's cousin from Canada. He moved to America when he was only five, and his family resided in the same town as where Alfred's family lived. The two immediately got along, and they went into the same schools for years.

Matthew grimaced at Alfred's words and replied, "Geez, I wonder why, o captain-of-basketball-team..."

"Aww, Mattie, sorry for that. I'm just... slightly distracted today," Alfred replied, trying to keep up his smile.

"Oh, is it because of your dad's girlfriend? You shouldn't worry about it too much," Matthew advised as he put on his glasses, making him more similar in looks to Alfred than ever. People who didn't know they were cousins often mistaken them as twins.

"Maybe you're right... But I'm still unsure about it," Alfred sighed painfully as he ran his hand through his hair. He stood up reluctantly and gathered his belonging and dumped them into his backpack, and then he slung it over his shoulder. "I'm going home now, I guess. See ya around, Mattie," Alfred frowned slightly. "My dad will certainly scold me if I don't arrive at home in time to welcome his girlfriend..."

"Good luck, eh?" Matthew smiled as Alfred walked to the red painted door. "See ya tomorrow, Al."

"Yeah, thanks Matt," Alfred grinned as he opened the door and left the changing room.

As he strolled through the almost-empty school, Alfred reminisced about his dear mother. She died four years ago, leaving him and his dad on their own. Ever since her death, Alfred and his dad had grown closer, but Alfred still could not accept it when his dad finally started dating again. Well, actually his dad rarely dated anybody, and in the past four years he'd only got himself two girlfriends. The first broke up with him after only several months when the bitch found out that he had a son, and the second was a British girl he met when they had vacation in England.

The second, obviously, was the one that's going to visit their home today.

"What if she doesn't like me?" Alfred thought glumly as he pushed open the school entrance. Alfred continued to contemplate sombrely as he walked on the concrete sidewalk outside the school building. His home was only a few blocks away, so he always walked to his home from school and vice versa. He had tried to persuade his dad to buy him a car, but his dad had gave him a big "No" and refused to talk about it any further until he graduated.

"I'm a high school student right now, so why won't he buy me a car?" Alfred grumbled as he finally reached his home. Sure, his home was close enough from school, but it'll be so much better (and cooler, mind) if he had a car of his own. As he broke through his busy thoughts, he noticed that his dad's car was neatly parked in the garage. His dad had arrived home after picking his girlfriend from the airport.

Alfred gulped and reached his hand to grab the handle of the front door.

* * *

Although he hated to admit it, Arthur secretly thought that the bastard's house was nice. It felt homey, with a rustic feel instead of the minimalistic style people loved nowadays. The windows had wooden frames, and the floor was made of fine wood as well. There was a nice backyard with a big tree, a nice wooden swing, and a jungle gym. Although he'd rather die than admit it, Arthur thought that it would be nice to live there instead of living in his cramped home back in London.

"Hey, Patrick?" Arthur called tentatively, loathing the name. Patrick had told him to call him by his name, although Arthur's mum had expressed her disagreement regarding the matter.

"It'll be better for him, Sara. I'm not his dad, and I'm sure Arthur will be even more rebellious if you pushed him around," Patrick had said to Sara, Arthur's mum.

Arthur loathed the way Patrick treated him; he already expected the man to treat him like a child, but instead he was getting treated like an adult. The fact that the first person who treated him the way he always wanted was his mum's boyfriend made him despise the man even more; he made Arthur felt like he was reading through his mind.

Patrick appeared from the living room when he heard Arthur called. "Yeah, Arthur? What's wrong?" he asked.

"Whose is that?" Arthur pointed to the jungle gym in the backyard, not bothering to be polite.

"Well, it was my son's when he was little-"

"_What?_" Arthur blurted furiously, his eyes bulging.

"Oh," Patrick's lips rounded to form a perfectly comical 'O'. "Sara... Hasn't she told you yet..?"

"MUM?" Arthur yelled, his cheeks flushing in anger.

"Yes, Artie? What's wrong? Don't yell like that, it's impolite," Sara appeared from the living room after she heard Arthur yell.

"Why didn't you tell me that he has a _son_?" Arthur snapped, his eyes glaring pointedly at his mum.

* * *

"Oh, great," Alfred mumbled as he entered his home. There were big, heavy suitcases in the living room, obviously belonging to his dad's girlfriend. Although, he mentally noted, she _does _have lots of stuffs, regarding from the amount of bags and suitcases littering the cozy living room. Could it be that his dad is dating a shopaholic..? Alfred grimaced and immediately banished the thought away from his mind.

Then, he heard the shouts issuing from the porch in the backyard.

"Yes, Artie? What's wrong? Don't yell like that, it's impolite," a woman's soft voice issued.

"Why didn't you tell me that he has a _son_?" another voice snapped, or perhaps yelled furiously at the first voice.

"What the hell..?" Alfred thought curiously. He walked past the suitcases to the porch in the back, trying to figure out what the hell was it all about.

When he stepped into the porch through the French doors, he saw his dad standing beside a beautiful woman in her thirties, and in front of them stood a young teenager with blond hair and enormously large eyebrows who was glaring furiously at them. His blond hair was the exact same shade as the woman's hair. _Oh, shit..._

"Well? What's your excuse this time?" the blond barked, his astonishingly green eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Arthur... But I know you just won't listen if I told you before-"

"So _this _is your way of telling me? "

"Uhh, dad?" Alfred mumbled audibly. Immediately, his dad and the woman turned in surprise. The green-eyed blond's eyes immediately jabbed at Alfred instead, a look of comprehension appeared in his feature. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared at Alfred, causing him to grow uneasy. Alfred shuffled his feet and stared at the wooden floor below his feet instead. Somehow, the shorter blond's glare was intimidating him like hell.

"Ah, Alfred. Alfred, this is Sara," Patrick quickly introduced him to Sara.

"Ah, hi! Patrick had told me about you," Sara smiled fondly at the confused teenager. "My name is Sara Kirkland. You look so much like your father."

"Uhh, hello. I'm Alfred..?" Alfred replied tentatively, not quite sure what to do, what with the shorter blond still glaring at him.

"Ah, Alfred. This is Arthur Kirkland, Sara's son. He's a year older than you are," Patrick quickly introduced Alfred to Arthur after he noticed Arthur glaring like a vicious Doberman at his son. "Arthur, this is Alfred F. Jones, my son."

At the same moment, both Arthur and Alfred immediately thought, "Oh, crap."

* * *

**A/N: Uh, this is really the first time I had written a fic with OCs in it... I wished Alfred's dad could introduce his son using his full name, but so far nobody knows what the 'F' stands for... Anyway, reviews are love! Constructive criticisms earns even bigger love! Oh, and thanks for reading! :D**

**Btw, the title means 'brother' in Irish :D**


End file.
